Abigail's Parent Teacher Conference
by BeachSpirit
Summary: Abigail has a parent-teacher conference, and both Hannibal and Will insist on going. Some super-fluff because I've read a lot of angsty fics lately and this is what happens in my mind at 3AM. I've said its humour because I can't classify things and I'm not funny. Sorry bout that folks ...


It is early in the morning. Hannibal had left Will sleeping in bed, coming downstairs for coffee. He checks the news on his tablet as the coffee slowly wakes him. His first appointment isn't until 10:30. He begins a to drift around the kitchen, making lunches for Abigail and Will to take with them.  
As he slides a "ham" sandwich into Abigail's school satchel, he noticed a smooth white letter poking out. He pulls it free and reads it:

Dear Parent / Guardian:  
We are delighted to invite you to the first Olgrove West High Parent Teacher conference of the academic year on Friday 23rd October  
Please sign and return the slip below as soon as possible if you plan to attend.  
Kind regards  
Miriam Harlow  
Principal.

Hannibal signs the little slip with care, carefully underling "guardian" and dating the paper before tearing it free of the letter.

"Abigail," he says as she enters the kitchen, dressed in her sleeping sweats and looking like she needs to go back to bed. "Please hand this to your teacher at school today."

Abigail eyes the sliver of paper in Hannibal's hand suspiciously before her eyes flicker in recognition.

"You don't have to go," she says quickly. "It's stupid."

"Nonsense. The greatest gift we can give ourselves and others is that of knowledge, and your schooling has been so interrupted lately. I - we - want to see how you're doing in your classes," Hannibal says.

Abigail scowls.

"Fine," she huffs. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

She grabs a dry bagel in lieu of a real breakfast and stalks out of the kitchen, narrowly avoiding careering into Will on her way.

"What happened?" Will frowns, his voice thick with sleep, looking over his shoulder as Abigail disappears up the stairs.

Hannibal slides the letter to Will, who reads it quickly.

"We're going, right?" Will asks, reaching for the coffee cup that Hannibal sets in front of him with a nod of thanks. "I mean, I think she's doing alright. She seems to get on with the other kids. How she's gotten out of being recognised -"

Will bites his bottom lip with worry.  
"Of course we're going," Hannibal smiles at him. "We wouldn't miss it for the world."

The school's parking lot is crowded with expensive SUVs and sports cars that belong to the parents of Abigail's classmates. As the most exclusive private school in Baltimore, Will notes that the cars looks suspiciously like they are worth more than he makes in a year.

Hannibal had somehow jumped the three year waiting list when he decided to take control over Abigail's retaking of senior year. His contacts, it seemed, were everywhere.

"Remind me how you managed this again?" Will asks.

"Managed what?" Hannibal says, distracted by the ornate doors on their way in.

"To get Abigail a place here," Will answers as he takes a welcome pamphlet about how the evening is organised - complexly - from a girl in the schools bottle green uniform.

"The principal and I are often at the same operas; an old friend of mine," Hannibal says. "I believe we take a left here."

In every corridor, Hannibal seems to have an old acquaintance delighted to see him again. Will feels that his own social contacts are woefully inadequate. All six of them.

"Do you ever not know anyone?" Will grits out.

Hannibal smiles, ignoring Will's typical discomfort amongst crowds of strangers.

As woman across the corridor spots Hannibal, her eyes light up in recognition and she makes a beeline for him.

"Doctor Lecter, darling!" She trills.

"Dahlia," Hannibal smiles. "How wonderful to see you."

"You too, my dear. I know your daughter goes here, doesn't she?" Dahlia says.  
"Yes, she is a senior."

"How lovely, I - oh! Hello," she spots Will hovering nervously behind Hannibal's left shoulder.

Will shifts uncomfortably.

"Dahlia, this is Will," Hannibal says. "My partner."

Dahlia looks ready to choke on her own excitement.

"So you're Will!" she trills, scrutinizing his face in a manner that made Will very much wish that the tiled floor would open up and swallow him. "How delicious."  
Will is now the one near choking as Dahlia tilts his chin up with a bony, ring-laden hand.

"I must be off," she sighs. "My youngest boy has been a particular bother this year so far." She turns to Hannibal. "Impeccable taste," she whispers before disappearing into the crowd.

Will blushes furiously as Hannibal frowns slightly after her.  
"I cannot say that she is wrong, but I wish she were a little more reserved," Hannibal sighs.

"Don't we both," Will shudders as Hannibal goes up to a co-ordinator and asks for directions.

"Student's name, please?" the man asks.

"Abigail Graham-Lecter," Hannibal answers smoothly as Will tries to hide his surprise.

"Room 203, to start, sir" the man smiles.

"Thank you," Hannibal replies, taking Will's arm and leading him in the right direction.

"Graham-Lecter?" he says under his breath.

"She wanted a fresh start here," Hannibal says quietly. "So she used our names."

That explains why she's stayed so anonymous, Will thinks to himself as they walk down corridors with better decor than Will's house.

The teacher in room 203 looks up and smiles as they enter.

"You must be Abigail's dads," she beams, trying to avoid knocking over a teetering pile of chemistry text books on her desk as she stands up to shake their hands. "Please, take a seat."


End file.
